


Blood Oranges

by drunkenRabbit



Category: Darksiders (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Death doesn't know how to deal, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, mentions of other Horsemen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 17:02:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14501544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkenRabbit/pseuds/drunkenRabbit
Summary: Death realizes his happy-go-lucky companion isn't as happy as she seems.





	Blood Oranges

**Author's Note:**

> Such a dramatic beauty hailing from the Southern Mediterranean, where they have been growing since the 18th century

Never did the scent of citrus leave his nostrils when Merlot would disappear from his side. The maenad always smelled of it, even though they reeked of sweat, dried blood and strong alcohol. Could it have something to do with maenads in general? Do they always have such a fruity smell to them? 

Right now even, Merlot sat reeking of the stench while chugging down a bottle of ale she recently swiped from The Forge. 

“Drunk yet?” Death asked. Merlot removed the bottle from her lips and gave a toothy grin. She opened her mouth to speak but a loud burp overpowered her words,”  _ solved that mystery then _ ”

Merlot let out a slurred laugh before proceeding to down the rest of her bottle. 

“Y’know, Dee? Y’know that–,” Merlot hiccupped,” blood oranges are the  **most** dramatic of the citrus family? ‘Cause they look  _ hik _ –’cause when you look at ‘em, they look  _ bloody _ and  _ gooey _ ”

She began to laugh, most likely finding the word  _ gooey  _ funny. 

“ _ Hah– ‘gooey’ _ ”

Death rolled his eyes and turned around, planning to head towards Muria to stock up on health elixirs for their upcoming travels.

“Y’know Dee. My– _ hic _ –my wife loved those things”

“Your  _ wife _ ?” Death stopped and turned towards his drunken companion. Her face had turn sour,”  _ never thought of her the commiting type _ ”

“Well–not really m’wife. More a really  _ really  _ friendly friend”

He stood corrected. When he turned once again, Merlot had latched on to his shoulders.

“Anyways, she loved ‘em. Grew loads of ‘em in ‘er garden. Wanted to find Silvia?  _ Check the garden _ , they'd say.  _ She never leaves that garden _ , they said,” Merlot slurred. 

“Forget-me-nots, lilacs, hydrangeas–even  **roses** ! Y’know how hard growing roses are? Pain in the  **ass** , I tell you! You have to deal with all the thorns and—”

The two sat down on a stone bench, and even still, Merlot clung from Death like some koala bear holding onto a tree.

“Whatever. So I says to ‘er, after plopping down into that garden–  _ If I had a garden me self, I'd put your tulips and my tulips together _ . Get it? Since tulips sounds like ‘two lips’?”

“I get it”

Merlot let out another chuckle while she laid herself down on the Horseman's lap. Normally he'd push her off, telling her to double-check her sources since he,  last time he checked, wasn't a bed. However, now seemed like an inappropriate time for such a friendly reminder.

“Do you? You probably won't get the next part- _ hic _ -then”

“What? She said– _ If you were a flower, you'd be a  _ **_damn_ ** _ -delion _ –and then you two proceeded to snog?” Death said. Merlot stared at the Horseman until cracking a wide smile.

“I wish. Silva shrunk down into a little ball of embarrassment. Cutest little thing,” Merlot sighed, her cheeks growing warm for something other than alcohol this time,” cutest human I've ever seen”

“Human? You fell in love with a human? Thought your kind only tempted them,” Death asked. 

“Initially, but love works in mysterious ways my friend,” Merlot said,” so does fate”

Her voice dipped, cracking when she said  _ fate _ . He could see, behind the drunken cloud covering her eyes, something he too experienced all too well. 

“She's dead, isn't she?”

Merlot’s eyes, hazed by liquor, drooped. Her face scrunched up and she rolled over to the side, letting her empty bottle roll from her fingers.

“Dead? Who died?” Merlot asked. Death narrowed his eyes.

“Your wife—Silvia”

“ _ My  _ wife? I had a wife? I never–I don't remember. What  _ Silvia  _ are we talkin’ about?”

Her eyes had dulled completely and she stared to the wall adjacent from them, not registering where she laid. Death could see the disassociated look Merlot held and his gaze softened. He put a cold hand to her exposed shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

“Merlot,” he said. Merlot craned her neck upwards but, with the weight of everything, fell back down in a numb heap. Death let out a small sigh and gave the shoulder another squeeze. 

He didn't know how to deal with these things. The act of comforting someone proved to be the worst thing the Horseman could ever do. Even with his siblings, Death remained utterly  **useless** when comforting them, usually leaving the job for Fury. 

But now there was no Fury, only himself and the maenad he had come to know as ‘friend’.

“Little one,” Death said. His physique turned awkward and a small pond of sweat began to manifest on his forehead. The maenad had fallen asleep, their bottle having rolled to the wall in front of them. Soft intoxicated breaths filled the air with fruity smells, making Death breathe in more of the  _ nice  _ smells than he had wanted to.

Though even if they came from alcohol, the smells generated a pungent odor that the Horseman could only distinguish as one word: relaxation. Taking in another gulp of breath, Death slowly began to flutter his eyes shut.

Now he knew why Merlot smelled of that citrusy scent. It relaxed them. 

“Goodnight, Dee,” Merlot said. Death let a soft smile grow underneath his mask and he too soon dove into a much needed rest. 

  
  
  



End file.
